Dancing Mad
by Yoshiyuki Ly
Summary: After her mind's resistance destroys the Prothean beacon on Eden Prime, Shepard is declared mentally insane and is discharged from the Alliance. She escapes her fate by chance, making it all the way to Thessia's Prothean expert who can help her make sense of these events. Shepard's frustration keeps things from going smoothly; Liara doesn't give up. Renegade FemShep/Liara.
1. prologue, one

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Mass Effect. I also don't know where this idea came from. Plot bunny, maybe. I have the whole thing in mind, including the ending. I'll see about updates.

_For **Quietly-Confident**._

—

_**prologue.**_

_That force lifted me from the ground, crucifying me in the air. My outline greened as I kept from screaming. _

_Viscous blood splattered in my eyes and ears. Rotting flesh carved within rusting machinery filled my nose and mouth. Cries in a foreign language carved at my heart, propelling me to act. Helplessness reigned—I couldn't move; I couldn't help anyone like this. They grew louder. My need to help grew stronger. My immobility frustrated me, more. That frustration turned to anger; that anger turned to self-hate._

_Lieutenant Alenko called my name. Perception beyond these images splintered my mind._

_Because everyone needed me—these people…they needed me. I couldn't understand them, yet I felt it all in my heart. They needed someone, anyone._

_Even someone with my track-record…_

_Declared legally insane._

_Dishonorably discharged from Systems Alliance for tampering with and destroying alien technology._

_Directed to an asylum on Arcturus Station to have all of my implants removed._

_Drugged to follow the herd…until I reached my senses._

_Someone bumped into me. I'm Commander fucking Shepard and someone bumped into me. _

_He shoved me out of line right as I turned to glare at them. He gestured with his shoulders—as someone only could in a strait jacket. His words sounded jumbled in the murk of my mind. I narrowed my eyes to hide from the sheer whiteness of the room. My feet felt so cold against the ground. _

_Did I recognize him? I didn't know this man… He looked so bright; he almost blended into the walls._

"_Shepard, get outta here!"_

_What…? Here? Where? Why?_

_He snapped his head back to look around before shoving me harder—with his biotics this time. _

"_Shepard, you can still cloak, you can still leave! Get the fuck outta here—you don't belong here!" _

_I couldn't keep my eyes open for long without seeing the images I dreamt about for days: death, destruction, desperation. I might have cloaked. I might have listened to him. _

"_Go to the docking bay. The civilian ships they brought us in are still there. Crack the authentication, hijack the ship…just do whatever you gotta do to leave this station!"_

_By the same force that sent me here, I ran away. I ran between other humans; I ran between beams jettisoned from the sky. I ran along cold floors; along dead grass and burning rock. Somehow I used my omni-tool to burn through the arms of this jacket. Someone, unknown, faraway called to me. They needed me._

_This ship would take me there._

_Yet I had no idea as to the coordinates I put in. Random numbers, in a random cluster in a random system of the galaxy. I stared out the window for hours in a daze, thinking of nothing. Absolutely nothing. I hardly registered the ship's VI warning me of low fuel._

_I managed to fumble my way to an escape pod. Again, as I drifted through space, I could think of nothing. As blank and as white as those walls had been, my mind shut down. _

_I had my life in order. I kept everything in order. My hands moved on their own to comb the knots from my long hair. The hairs on my arms and the nape of my neck stood up on end from the pleasure of it all. _

_Low oxygen._

_What oxygen? I had forgotten how to breathe._

_I killed so many. Sent more to their deaths, by my command. I bossed others around, expecting them to obey me. They needed to. An order's an order. You don't disobey an order from me, whether I'm your superior or not. You just don't. N7 Elite. Prideful. Staff Commander Thea Shepard. _

_You listened to me when I spoke. You paid attention to me when I took action._

_And I repaid you by saving you…in whatever way I knew how._

—

_**one.**_

Liara held her files close to her chest, walking through the empty halls of the University of Serrice. Doctor Passante had rescheduled their meeting for later in the evening. Liara had accepted the setback, still eager to share the details of her latest project with her colleague.

When she arrived at Doctor Passante's office, she knocked first before entering. As Liara made to blurt out her announcement in a rare display of excitement, she stopped.

Doctor Passante sat at her desk, her gaze distant. Distracted.

"Doctor?" asked Liara. "Doctor Passante? I… Is this not a good time? We can reschedule again, if…you deem it necessary."

Doctor Passante gestured for Liara to shut the door. "No, no," she said. "Please, sit." Liara did so, her face fixed in worry. "You said you had good news to share with me? I could certainly use some after the day I've had."

"Yes…" said Liara. "The University has accepted my proposal." Upon seeing Doctor Passante's interest instead of distance, Liara smiled. "I have received clearance for the sponsored dig on Therum in the Artemis Tau cluster! I never dreamed of getting to explore the ruins there. I am told it will be a rather dangerous expedition, with the recent geth sightings throughout the Attican Traverse…"

Liara trailed off when Passante gave no sign of having heard her.

Doctor Passante shook her head. "Liara, I apologize," she said. "That's wonderful news. In fact, I was part of the committee that gave you the okay. I know there will be much to discover on Therum."

"I do not mean to pry, but…is something wrong, Doctor?"

Doctor Passante sighed. "It isn't me," she assured Liara. "It's nothing to do with me…" The concern in Liara's face prompted her to say more. "It's the local hospital. There's a human there—the doctors say she's in terrible shape. Mentally unstable. I can't give any more details here. Just that it's to do with the Protheans."

"The—the Protheans?" asked Liara. "But, how…? Did she somehow come into contact with…"

"The Alliance discovered one of their beacons on a human colony, Eden Prime. I heard on the news about an Alliance officer being discharged for damaging alien technology. They wouldn't say _Prothean _technology specifically, but I'd say this is the same human."

"Goddess," breathed Liara. "How did she manage to find her way to Council Space?"

"A team of commandos found her nearly dead in an escape pod, just outside the city."

Liara looked down to her files. How excited she had been to share her detailed hopes on what she would find on Therum. Yet now, this human who had found her way to Thessia gave her the strongest feeling: that she ought to investigate, to learn more.

Doctor Passante noticed that look in Liara's eyes. "Come with me, Liara," she said, standing up. "I know the nurses in her ward. I'll get you clearance to visit. You should see this for yourself."

—

Liara ached with sympathy as she watched this human lying on the hospital bed, on life support.

The hospital had yet to identify the ex-officer. With no dog tags and no identifying information from the news, the nurses simply called her that: _the ex-officer. _

The ex-officer who came into contact with working—though badly damaged—Prothean technology.

The Alliance had discharged her for her strong will. Liara guesstimated that the ex-officer's mental resistance to whatever the Protheans had encrypted in their message had destroyed the beacon. From the jacket she wore when the commandos had found her, the Alliance had also sent her to some sort of center for rehabilitation. She had escaped, somehow.

Liara sat down at the ex-officer's bedside. She observed the deadened auburn of her long hair, the frayed, honeyed complexion of her skin. Even in her sleep, a scowl stayed over the ex-officer long, sculpted features. How unusual she looked to Liara, still so unused to humans, and yet she recognized _something _in her: something comfortable, familiar. From the rapid eye movement behind her closed lids, Liara assumed she must have been dreaming. Those dreams kept her alive, no matter how traumatizing Liara imagined them to be. Her dreams kept the blood flowing to her suffocated brain, making up from the horrible oxygen loss she'd suffered on her way to Thessia.

Liara felt compelled to help. She thought of joining her mind to the ex-officer's, to see the full scope of her afflictions. What knowledge she might find there, of the Protheans, of how this woman had endured so much; Liara felt the allure of it all, scorching as her face and neck did. Liara quickly dismissed the idea as inappropriate, despite her lingering longings. She had never joined with anyone before, on life support due to brain failure or not. Whatever she had to gain from such a venture, anyone else might have called it rape.

She sighed those thoughts away.

How else could she help?

A nurse walked into the room. "Doctor T'Soni!" she addressed Liara. "I had no idea you were still here at this hour. I thought you might have left earlier with Doctor Passante?"

"Oh, no!" said Liara, standing in a hurry. "I apologize, I should not have… I—I was just leaving!"

The nurse watched her go, perplexed. Liara set off at a quick pace through the hospital on her way out. She returned home, determined to find the eagerness she had misplaced on the matter of visiting Therum.

And yet she could not find the will to finish packing her things.

—

She stared at her bed for what felt like weeks.

Those weeks did indeed pass with Liara sitting in her study, being most unproductive with her remaining time on Thessia. She'd had pre-departure lectures to attend, and discussions to lead concerning her hopes and expectations for the upcoming expedition. While Liara did keep up with all of these, her sponsors and colleagues noticed her lack of enthusiasm.

They also knew whom she had visited in the hospital earlier that month.

Liara stood at the fore of the lecture hall, where she had been in the midst of presenting her outline of what she hoped to find on Therum. Dozens of eyes watched her struggle to form a sentence.

_She had been trying to justify the importance of the expedition as opposed to focusing on local study._

"That is why…" Liara trailed off yet again. "Because…because of our lack of resources at the local level, it is of great importance that we continue to expand our knowledge of the Protheans beyond what we are most familiar with. We are not so fortunate as the hanar and the drell on Kahje, who live on what many of us consider a paradise of unexplored ruins just waiting to be discovered. We have exhausted our resources here—the only remaining theories are the reaching tales linking the Athame doctrines to prehistoric asari encounters with the Protheans…"

Liara ended her argument on that lame note. She looked to her notes scattered about the desk in front of her, expecting the necessary awkward moments to pass before she could excuse herself to sit down.

Doctor Passante had snuck her way into the discussion. She raised her hand. Liara blinked, snapping her head up to address her.

"Y-Yes?" asked Liara, "…Doctor Passante?"

"Doctor T'Soni," spoke Passante. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe you've failed to convince any one of us that you feel we need to step outside Council Space at this time. We all know that there is indeed a valuable source of information at the local level that we've yet to investigate fully."

Liara found herself at last. "While I agree on both counts," she said, "I do not believe a human, or any organic being for that matter, would appreciate waking up from a near-death experience as the subject matter of an in-depth study. I admit to a great deal of inexperience in dealing with humans, but from what I can assume, she would be confused and perhaps very angry. I would much rather continue on with the planned expedition as opposed to violating her rights."

"Then you will simply wait for her to wake up," said Passante. "You can ask her permission then, however you see fit." Liara stared at her. "You're the patient sort, Doctor T'Soni. Surely there would be more gain in pursuing this project instead? The University can send someone else to Therum—someone more focused."

"You are assuming I would simply _abandon_ something I have spent months preparing for?"

Doctor Passante smiled. "It appears I have hit a nerve," she surmised. "You've been distracted these weeks since her arrival. You're already invested in this possibility. All you needed was a second opinion."

Everyone else in the room proceeded to agree with Passante. Liara didn't know whether to feel grateful for the accuracy of Passante's intuition or embarrassed that she had been overruled.

—

Liara returned to the hospital about an hour later. Though the nurses recognized her, she showed them the latest draft the University of Serrice had written on their interest in the ex-officer's trauma. A doctor came over to ascertain the document, before walking with Liara to the ex-officer's room. Liara kept the doctor's words in mind as she went to take her seat.

The doctor's last words before leaving concerned the matter of her patient's identity. They had managed to decrypt a few of the files in her damaged omni-tool, only able to identify her former title and surname, as well as a few other mundane details.

"Commander Shepard," whispered Liara.

Shepard opened her eyes. Liara did her best to stay in her seat, so as to not alarm the commander with her surprise.

Shepard's hazel eyes appeared glassy, unfocused as she stared at her visitor.

"What…do you need?" asked Shepard, her voice raspy with confusion. "Who are you?"

Liara could only stare at her for a moment. She knew she ought to have gone to search for the doctor.

"Hello, Commander," replied Liara. "My name is Liara. Liara T'Soni." Shepard mouthed her name, nodding. "How…how are you feeling?"

Though Shepard's scowl remained, Liara felt no hostility there. Shepard shook her head, trying to lift her hand to her face. Liara placed her hand over Shepard's arm.

"Try not to move," she said. "It is best that you avoid straining yourself. You have been asleep for some time." Liara thought back to the commander's first question. "As to what I need…it is irrelevant. I am more concerned about your well-being."

"How did I get here?"

Liara wondered that herself.

"No one can say for certain," said Liara. "I am told that a team of asari commandos found you in a crashed escape pod. You somehow left Arcturus Station…and made it all the way here, to Thessia."

Shepard's eyes wandered the room on their own accord. "Thessia," she repeated, as a child learning the word for the first time.

"That is correct," replied Liara, wincing as her voice broke in her compassion. "It is understandable that you have no recollection of your arrival. Unfortunately, I am uncertain of all the details on your condition." She made to stand. "I should go find the doctor—"

Shepard's stare pierced Liara to her seat.

"Stay," she said.

Liara stayed.

Shepard moved her gaze to Liara's hand that hadn't moved from her arm. "You're an asari…" she observed. "Do the asari believe in miracles? In second chances?"

"We believe in second chances, certainly," replied Liara. "Miracles, not so much. My people are no longer devoutly religious. Our society has become polytheistic, thus religion is no longer a singular source of truth. It is much more common to analyze advantageous circumstances, or perhaps coincidences as opposed to miracles." Shepard's eyes refused to move. "Why do you ask?"

"I was discharged from the Alliance. A turian Spectre said I needed to be put away, that I lost my mind during my last mission. After everything I've done in my life, my superiors agreed with him. I tried to kill them all. The Council put me in an asylum. I couldn't move my arms anymore. That's all I remember."

"That was an unfair trial, Commander," said Liara. "It is clear to me that your mind is not lost. You are able to hold a conversation with me. You have retained focus over your eyes, your thoughts. If you could appeal to the Council, the Alliance—"

"I can't. I ran away. They'll just put me back where I came from and throw away the key."

Liara regarded Shepard in worry as she waited for her to continue.

"Humans don't get the same respect from the Council as you do," Shepard went on. "They brought me to trial when I couldn't even speak, couldn't remember my own name and let some turian decide what was right for me. I'm starting to get bits and pieces back of what happened…not much." She looked around the room again. "Is there anything you can tell me about when I was out?"

"Commander, I really should not speak in place of your doctor…"

Shepard frowned. "I don't want you to leave, Liara," she said. "I'm not a commander anymore. I'm not who I was anymore. I'm supposed to be so pissed off right now, but I'm not. I feel like if you go anywhere, even for a second I'll lose this hold I have over myself. So just tell me what I want to know."

Liara shuddered as she sighed over Shepard's sincerity. They were strangers, and yet Shepard saw no reason to withhold such sentiments from her. Liara knew better than to do the same.

"I overheard the nurses discussing your file," said Liara. "They mentioned abnormally high beta wave activity, and an increased vividness in your dreams. To maintain your integrity and natural rights, the doctors have not performed the same standard procedures on you as they would an asari inpatient."

"What do you mean? What standard procedures?"

Liara looked away. "The hospital has not assigned a therapist to you, to help soothe your mind," she murmured. "It would require a melding of nervous systems, of thoughts, of feelings, of emotions, to assist you." Shepard continued to stare at Liara, in a way that meant she still did not understand. "You…you are unfamiliar with the asari bonding process, Shepard. It is as I guessed…"

"Sounds like you are, too," said Shepard with a far-off smirk. Liara felt that heat in her face and neck again, from Shepard's ease with reading her. "So what _are _you familiar with, Liara? You sound like you've got your work cut out for you."

Liara tried to maintain eye contact. "I am a scientist," she replied. "I specialize in the Protheans, in finding out any information I can on their culture and civilization. The technology you came into contact with on Eden Prime was of Prothean origin…"

Shepard continued to appear amused with Liara, her manner of speech and the way she held herself.

"So I take it that means you want to know what I've been dreaming about," surmised Shepard.

"I am very interested in learning, yes," said Liara. "That is,_ if_ you are comfortable sharing this information with me…"

Shepard gave Liara a cryptic smile. "When I can make sense of it, I'll let you know."

Shepard's doctor entered the room. Liara caught herself before her thoughts could wander again, attempting to listen to their conversation. The exchange of this _information _could only be communicated best through the process Liara had failed to explain with any adequacy. It could take days, weeks or longer for Shepard to make sense of anything by herself.

Liara felt more than prepared to wait. For what, remained to be seen.

—

The following day, Liara met with Shepard's doctor bright and early in the morning. Though she knew this conversation was to discuss Shepard's eventual check-out from the hospital under her care, she felt the need to focus on what was not being said. Perhaps policy, perhaps habit kept Shepard's doctor from explaining the hoarse shouting reverberating through the halls. Liara's hands trembled as she was given the observational reports on Shepard's condition. She wanted to question why the nurses had not given Shepard proper treatment, yet she knew she would only receive the same answer she could come up with on her own:

_That Shepard is an alien, an unknown—sending her to Earth is the best course of action: one that Shepard does not want to have happen. Thus, they must endure these uncertainties instead._

Shepard's very vocal frustration with the nurses continued to echo and echo, tempting Liara to snap at the doctor for…what, she did not know. Shepard's unabashed expression still managed to influence Liara: out of empathy, out of more.

"And you expect me, a stranger, to be able to determine proper protocol for assessing the commander's state?" asked Liara, sharper than she would have liked. "This hardly seems professional. I find it difficult to believe the hospital is so willing to maintain such leverage with her situation."

"The clearance you received from the University," said the doctor, thrown, "Have you not read it in its entirety? Or did you simply hand it to me to sign without ascertaining the permissions you've been given?"

Liara stayed silent, her irritation with the hospital slowly returning full circle to herself as the doctor handed her the document to re-read. This was unlike her, to skip over such important information. She could admit to more than enough distractions to justify her mistake. The reasons for those distractions, she read in print before her: the things she knew were best, the things she'd wanted for some time now. These words voiced with certainty all that she had muddled over in her mind; all she had been too confused to digest; all that she knew she was capable of, that was necessary to oversee in order to obtain what she needed.

_By the University of Serrice—_

_Prothean expert, Doctor Liara T'Soni—none else, even by her Judgment, are allowed to assess the patient's needs or traumas. Patient is now considered of the highest galactic value—_

_May hold the key to unlocking the secrets of the Prothean Empire, and more—_

_Her whereabouts and identity are to remain hidden. Living quarters may be assigned per Doctor T'Soni's discretion—_

_Patient is to be cared for and treated; spoken with and known, by conversation, by melding or otherwise—_

_Details of discovery through care are to be kept within the boundaries of doctor and patient—_

…_**solitary **__**isolation**__ with both doctor and patient greatly encouraged to eliminate outside variables infringing upon progress…_

The rest, Liara had read, just before letting the document fall to the tile floor at her feet. Shepard's doctor had already signed it, signed the permission away to her.

When Liara found enough sense, she returned to Shepard's room. The nurses stood scattered in the hall outside the door as she approached, looking flustered with one another. Liara decided against asking what had happened, instead entering the room without a word. She closed the door behind her, noting the closed curtains—the closed body language of the commander as she sat upon the bed in her thin gown, facing her.

The resentment in Shepard's glare struck Liara, as a blunt weapon to her perception. Had she done something wrong, to provoke such a regard from the commander? They had conversed easily enough during her previous visit. Unless…something changed.

"Commander..?" asked Liara, unable to step forward. "Is…something bothering you? I…I heard you shouting, earlier. Have the nurses not been providing you with adequate attention and treatment?"

Shepard curled the corner of her mouth as she sneered. Liara's stomach turned at the sight. "_Treatment_?" she echoed. "There hasn't been any fucking treatment, Liara. They keep saying I have to wait for you to tell me what to do, where to go and how to live, basically. Why the hell didn't you tell me this the last time you were here?" Liara tried to find the words to explain herself, her mistake; Shepard went on, with no regard for those efforts so clear before her. "If I knew they assigned you to be my babysitter, I'd have wanted off this planet way sooner. They won't even give me anything to eat!"

"I am deeply sorry, I had no idea I was to be—"

"You had no idea?!" asked Shepard, standing now. Liara stopped her body from attempting to move away. Her back was already to the door—she had no place to go, to escape this rage. "Where I come from, I don't get someone assigned to me to make sure I don't go and kill myself because I'm _not right _in the head!" Shepard walked toward her, ire growing and growing. Liara could only listen, only fear. "Is that what you think? Do you feel sorry for me?" And Shepard got right in her face then, twisting Liara's insides; wringing them; wetting them again; whipping them out to crack them along the cacophony of confusion within. "Do you _want_ something from me, Liara? Is that it? Why else would you even bother?"

Liara could not explain herself there. Not like this. Not with Shepard so angry, so livid. She risked the chance of being misunderstood entirely—

Shepard scoffed over Liara's clamped mouth. "Know what? Forget it," she said, moving Liara from in front of the door. "I don't need this. I don't need you, what you're trying to do." She threw the door open, and left. "I'm out of here—damn anyone who tries to stop me. Bullshit asari, Thessia…"

Shock rooted Liara to the spot, forcing her to take a moment to catch her breath. How her chest heaved and heaved however much she tried to slow those movements. The harder she tried, the harder she breathed to compensate for those misguided efforts. Arrested, she was, by this surreal suddenness that had swept through her over the past month. It had been building and building before—now fit to burst, guiding her to bolt out of the door and search down the hallway.

In both directions, she saw only asari. Nurses, visitors, patients—all milling about, going about their own routines, clearly not having noticed the tall, long-haired, irritable human that had just stormed down the hall moments prior.

Liara took off in a random direction, her paces hard in their quickness, yet soft enough to not draw suspicion. With the path so clear before her, within, she could follow it with eyes closed. And she did, for a time, as she navigated the hospital wards, searching…

Until at last, near the exit, she saw a shimmer in Shepard's shape walk through the automatic doors. The sun shone on her cloaked form, revealing her presence for but a split second. Had Liara not been so focused on finding her, she would not have noticed—none else around her could tell. Liara followed after her, silent, with enough distance between them to follow Shepard's footsteps through the shallow water along Thessia's walkways without detection. She wanted to see where Shepard would end up.

Liara followed Shepard for hours, hours…never complaining, never needing rest; never questioning.


	2. two

**Note: **Thank you for the reviews, adds and PMs, everyone. Typical chapter length from here on out will be about double of this one. I'll do my best to update quickly in between other projects. Also, please note that the rating will increase down the line. Check your filters to make sure you're not searching for K through T when you want to find this story again.

—

_**two.**_

With the sun at the highest point in the sky, Liara knew it was only noon when Shepard finally uncloaked. They were in a park miles away from the hospital, near a cemetery, right where the water pathways had ended. It was there that Liara could have easily lost Shepard had the commander decided to keep going, without those watery footsteps to follow. Perhaps she had decided to stop there because she thought she would finally be alone. The only other asari Liara could see were in the far distance in the park; most passed through on the way to the small businesses nearby during their lunch hours.

The moment Shepard was visible again she leaned against a thick tree, looking ready to collapse. She knelt to the grass, heaving for breath. Liara did not hesitate to go to the commander, to kneel at her side. She could not stop herself, though she knew Shepard must have wanted to be alone.

She was saved from Shepard's anger, for the commander appeared too weary to express such a thing. Shepard continued to heave, with her temple against her knee as she regarded Liara at her side.

"…why did you follow me?" she asked, her voice hollow with fatigue.

"Commander, you must be famished," said Liara, full of concern. "We can discuss whatever you'd like later, or I will leave your company if you so wish… Please, allow me to help you. There are several restaurants nearby…"

Shepard did not protest. She allowed Liara to help her to her feet. She would not lean on her after that, instead cloaking again. Surely she had no desire to be seen in public in nothing but a hospital-issue gown. Liara felt Shepard at her side as she walked into town, unconcerned that she might run off again.

There were enough people around to speak to Shepard, subtly. The asari going about their business all appeared distracted by their omni-tools, or in enough of a rush to return to work so as to not notice Liara practically holding a conversation with herself. Liara should have felt self-conscious about the possibility of someone noticing her behavior. Liara saw nothing out-of-the ordinary about speaking to a near-stranger cloaked next to her. Nothing was strange about it. Shepard needed her help. There was no room for Liara to feel awkward about anything. Shepard, even in her state, knew how to navigate such crowds without bumping into anyone, still staying close by.

If she really wanted to, Shepard could have left without Liara noticing. She _chose_ not to.

"Is there any type of meal you prefer, Commander?" asked Liara, suddenly quite happy. "This area of Serrice may be small, but it offers a wide variety to choose from. If you would like, I may be able to locate an establishment that serves dishes native to your homeworld. They are rather few and far in between here on Thessia. I can recall the grand opening of one such place somewhere near here, a number of years ago after the end of your First Contact War with the turians. Should we go there?"

Shepard inhaled and exhaled loudly before saying, "Just get me anything… I can't be picky right now."

"Oh…of course," replied Liara, looking away—feeling awkward, _now_. "I apologize…you are certainly right. I should not have rambled at such length about selections and preferences when you are in no state to be choosy, as you said. I was merely concerned that you would not enjoy typical asari cuisine—that it might be too light or perhaps not flavorful enough for your tastes. It might not fill you up, because you are so hungry, or…" Upon hearing Shepard's irritated sigh, Liara felt her chest clench with embarrassment. "I'm doing it again, aren't I…?"

Shepard said nothing. Liara got the hint well enough, mentally reprimanding herself for no doubt adding to the commander's distress.

Liara entered the nearest restaurant, just as a couple exited through the glass door and held it open for her. Thus it stayed open long enough for Shepard to follow after her without suspicion, though she walked very close behind. So close, she could feel Shepard's haggard breathing along the back of her scalp, for the commander was that much taller than her. Liara hesitated before offering a smile to the couple as they acknowledged her one last time, in that polite way such friendly strangers always did. She noticed the couple as they walked off, standing close together as they clearly wondered as to her unease—that was her first sign that perhaps this wasn't such a good idea, despite her good intentions.

"Hello, good afternoon!" said the hostess, startling Liara. Liara turned to at least _try _to smile at her properly, taking in the simple appearance of the restaurant behind her. Simple was good—hopefully Shepard preferred this, as she used to be in the military. The small building was crowded, but, again, that crowd could offer her enough privacy. "…are you looking for anyone? Or are you expecting someone to join you?"

Liara caught herself. "No, no—oh, well, _no, _I am not searching for anyone, or expecting—" She did not think this through. The hostess stared at her, thinking her strange. Shepard had leaned against Liara's shoulder, her weight increasing by the moment. Liara sighed, and tried again: "I would like a small table for—two—please, preferably in a corner, away from other people. I will be sitting alone, but I would like to order for two. It is…a personal matter. That is all I can say. Please understand."

The hostess kept her comments to herself. "The wait will be about fifteen minutes," she supplied instead, her tone neutral. She gestured to the communal seats along the wall, around a corner. "If you'll take a seat there, I'll come find you when your table is ready."

"Yes, certainly," said Liara, grateful that she had escaped any form of interrogation. "Thank you."

Liara walked with Shepard to sit down with her. However, there was only one space free, at the very end.

"Please, sit," she said, underneath the loud conversation all around them.

"No, _you_ sit," argued Shepard.

"But, Commander—"

"_Liara._"

Liara sat down, with some space between herself and the person beside her. Before she could try to ask why _she _had to sit when she was hardly the one starving, Shepard took a seat on her lap. Liara kept from visibly reacting with much difficulty, lest she attracted even more attention than she already had. There really was no alternative—other asari now waiting to be seated began to occupy the space all around them. Shepard was exhausted, heavy; she leaned her back against Liara's front, shifting her shoulder just enough so as to not lie plastered against Liara's face.

Instead of the general smell of the restaurant and the people around her, Liara inhaled the wind-broken aroma of Shepard's long hair. With each of Shepard's breaths, her weight over Liara increased for but a moment. Her skin still smelled of the hospital, somewhat—more of a mix of that, and the outside air from having wandered for so long.

"Why are your people so…_superior_?" breathed Shepard into Liara's ear. Her voice was amplified in that breathiness and closeness, as if speaking too closely into a microphone. "It's like they can't…chill out… Always so—_something_… Reminds me of the French…"

Liara kept her arms still at either side of her body, hands flat against the seat. She hardly moved—barely breathed. "I suppose most asari do bear a sense of superiority, now that…now that you bring it up," she replied, keeping her lips' movement to a minimum. "We are very well-respected among the galactic community for our discoveries and achievements…"

Shepard let out something of an amused scoff. "This isn't the _galactic community_," she pointed out. "This is Thessia…isn't it? I didn't walk off the planet, did I…?"

"No, you did not…you are still here, with me."

"Hmm," hummed Shepard, "I wonder…why you care so much. I'm used…to people wanting something—_something from me_. You do…you do, I _know _you do… Is that all?"

Liara did not know how to answer her right away. Of course she wanted something—the knowledge Shepard possessed of the Protheans. That knowledge that she was unable to express, to understand, yet it was there: this, she knew, she wanted _this_.

"You understand that my area of study coincides with your arrival here," began Liara, choosing her words with care. "We are mostly strangers to one another… While I am not an expert by any means in dealing with humans…I am eager to learn, to assist you in any way I am able. Because of your needs, the matter of your contact with the Protheans is secondary to me. I am willing to put you first, just as I am now. That is, if you…if you will allow me to do so. It is your decision."

Shepard was not as heavy over Liara as she'd been before hearing those words.

"We'll see about that."

The hostess arrived to collect them soon after, carrying two menus. She proceeded to guide Liara to her requested area of the restaurant. Shepard had some difficulty navigating the many waitresses holding up their heavy platters on one hand. Liara did her best to assist her, discreetly, though she noticed a few customers looking up at her as she moved an invisible weight out of harm's way.

When she sat down, a waitress came over to them, looking subdued. Liara ordered two glasses of purified, eezo-free water, a small meal for herself, and the largest, filling meal on the menu for Shepard—again, eezo-free, so as to not upset her stomach with that radiation. The waitress likely knew what was going on by that order, and by the chair opposite Liara moving for Shepard to sit directly next to her. She said nothing as she left. Liara was grateful for her discretion, and for her speed in returning with the water and appetizers.

Shepard made no effort to disguise her invisible eating—she ate quickly, breathing in her food. She maintained some sense of decency in those hurried motions, so as to not sound impolite as she ate. Liara was just about to pick up her spoon when Shepard let out a sound of disgust.

"What _is_ this?" blurted Shepard, her spoon clanking against her soup bowl. "Do the asari not believe in seasoning? This is so bland… Even blander than the old military rations I used to have, and that's saying something. I hated those things."

"Seasoning?" asked Liara, before tasting her soup. It tasted fine to her.

"Yeah, _seasoning_," said Shepard, yet she continued to eat anyway. "You know, salt and pepper?"

Liara blanched. "Salt?" she echoed. "I cannot imagine why anyone would choose to have salt on their meals. I hear it is extremely fattening, and it can lead to health complications if one overindulges…"

Shepard sighed, exasperated, and said nothing more as she finished off the appetizer and water. A few customers around them noticed the spoon next to Liara seemingly moving on its own. The glass tilted up, and, suddenly, more and more of the water disappeared. Liara decided it was best to attempt to ignore the attention. They could guess all they wanted as to what was going on, so long as none of them approached her and started asking questions.

Their meals arrived soon enough—Shepard again devoured her food, though she continued to complain about the taste. Liara ate her own meal amid Shepard's muttering, somehow at peace even through the commander's foul mood. Despite the increasing glances and stares in her direction, there was something relaxing about eating with another person—Shepard. Rarely did she choose to have meals with others, often declining her colleagues' requests for lunch and dinner dates in favor of eating at home by herself. She only ever said yes if she felt she had been telling them no too many times in a row.

The company of others, especially asari, made her uncomfortable, perhaps because of that superiority.

Shepard…she was something else—certainly not superior. She simply _was_.

"So Liara," Shepard said at last, nearly finished with her plate. "You still have to tell me why the hell you followed me. I must've been walking for hours."

Liara set her utensils down, only halfway done with her meal. "You did indeed walk for a number of miles," she confirmed, eyes focused on her plate. "I could not simply let you leave alone. You are on a foreign world, you are wanted in Alliance Space, and you have no way of supporting yourself even if you chose to live here. I would not know how to live with myself, had I lost track of you…" She felt Shepard's eyes on her, somehow. Liara averted hers, to the edge of the table. "Your disregard for your personal safety concerns me, Commander. If you believe you will be uncomfortable under my care, at least allow me to—"

Shepard interrupted her: "First of all," she began, "Stop calling me '_Commander.' _I'm not with the Alliance anymore." Before Liara could ask, her question was answered; "Shepard is fine. I think I'm used to everyone not even knowing my first name. Second of all, I'll stay with you, except I don't want you to treat me like a child or someone who's beneath you. I'm not interested in playing second to anyone. You need something from me, and I need something from you. We're equals here."

"You—you _need _something…?" Liara knew she sounded foolish. But for someone as prideful as Shepard to say such a thing—did she acknowledge her state, her need for care and attention? "I am sorry, C… Shepard." With Shepard's barely audible chuckle, Liara felt silly, and she did not understand why. "Is there anything else I should know?"

To that, Shepard only hummed, as if deep in thought. She finished her meal. Liara did not touch hers.

"I'll be right back, Liara," she said, standing up from the way her voice left Liara's side. "Just going to find the restroom."

"I should accompany you," offered Liara, making to stand. "It will be crowded. While I have no doubts you can manage your way there without bumping into anyone, you might arouse suspicion inside if you stay cloaked…"

She felt Shepard's hand on her shoulder, guiding her back down. "I think you're scared I'll run off again," she said. Liara clasped her hands over her lap, staring down at them. "That's why I want you to stay. I said I'll be right back. So wait for me."

Liara tried to watch her go, staring in the general direction of the restrooms. On occasion, she saw the glimmer of Shepard's cloak under the lights. She thought it strange that no one else seemed to notice. She kept her eyes on the far-off door, monitoring who entered and exited the room. No one appeared alarmed, or otherwise confused, so Shepard must have made it there without issue.

The minutes began to pass. Liara continued to stare, to watch, to monitor. Asari after asari passed through the door. Not once did she notice any space through which Shepard might have navigated, to return to her. She reached over, and placed her hand over the space Shepard had occupied in her chair. To Liara's dismay, Shepard did not sneak back and sit down without a word.

She said she would be right back. She said it twice, in fact. Liara did not believe Shepard would lie to her in such a way.

She stood up, and went to the restroom, just as she noticed a commotion beginning outside the door. A group of asari had called the manager over, complaining to her as they gestured with their hands—as if to express a vomiting action. Liara began to hurry as she noticed this, worried for Shepard. The hostess passed her by after escorting another group of customers to their seats. Liara paid her no mind as she excused herself through the gathering crowd and into the restroom.

But one stall remained used, locked. None else remained inside, with the asari outside imploring everyone else to avoid entering. Liara hadn't even heard their warnings when they'd directed them to her. She heard nothing as she approached—nothing but the sounds of heavy breathing and muttered curses.

Liara leaned against the cold stall door, and folded her arms. "Shepard," she said, her voice reverberating along the chrome walls. She heard a low groan in response, sating her. "I apologize…the food must have upset your stomach. I requested that they use element zero-free ingredients when preparing your meal. Thessia is very rich in eezo…I understand the exposure can be harmful to non-biotic humans even in small amounts. It may have been the appetizer…"

She heard the door unlock. Liara opened the door, and found Shepard sitting upon the ground uncloaked. Shepard leaned against the toilet, having flushed it already when the commotion started outside. Liara knelt down next to her, unsure if she should touch her—hold her. Never mind how long they had technically known one another…yet Liara hesitated nonetheless.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" she asked instead.

"Could you get me some salt…?" asked Shepard, fighting to keep from trembling.

Liara humbled at the request. "Salt, certainly…it helps with nausea," she acknowledged.

Before she could stand, the hostess found them. Shepard groaned anew and cloaked.

"I thought so," said the hostess, smiling a little as she observed the space where Shepard was just visible. "You know, I've seen a lot of different types come through here. You could have said your friend is shy and doesn't want to be seen. It's not so unusual. I'll tell the manager it's nothing to worry about."

"I'm not _shy_," argued Shepard. "For the love of God, can I just get some salt already?! This is disgusting!" The hostess smiled again as she went to retrieve the salt. Shepard uncloaked yet again. "Does she think this is a joke? I starved for hours, only to throw all of my food back up, and now she's _seen _me in this flimsy gown, I've started a scene outside…" Shepard let her head fall back against the surface behind her. "Some day _I'm_ having…"

Liara hesitated again, before saying, "For what it's worth, I am still here with you."

"Yeah, and I look fucking pathetic like this," lamented Shepard.

"I find it difficult to agree…"

Shepard sneered as she held back her gag. The sourness upon her face increased as she swallowed. She took a deep, open-mouthed breath as she looked up to the mirrored ceiling. "Really," she said, monotone. "Then what do I look like to you?"

Liara also looked up to the same mirror. "I do not see you any differently at all," she responded. "You are you. I have no reason to judge. This was my fault, for not thinking things through. I have a number of neutral, universal foods…"

"…at your place," Shepard finished for her. Liara nodded. "It's not as if I have anywhere else I can go. You've been…too kind to me. I want to be suspicious of you. People like you don't exist where I come from. I'm not used to this."

"If you are uncomfortable with the idea of staying with me, perhaps I can see to different living arrangements for you," offered Liara. Shepard turned away from her. "It is understandable. We have only known each other for less than a full day. I certainly would not expect you to warm up to the idea so quickly."

Shepard held her knees together, her voice muffled against them. "I like it when you're nice to me, but not _that _nice," she said. Liara stared at her, uncertain as to how to respond to such a claim. "You wanna help, I get it. But the more you keep offering to bend over backwards like that, to go out of your way for me, the more it reminds me that I can't do anything on my own anymore. My name means **nothing** in the galaxy. After _everything _I've accomplished, all of my awards and medals and accolades, I'm no one all over again because of a bunch of bullshit that was out of my control! So after I get this salt, just take me home with you and don't say anything to me."

The hostess returned with a small bag of salt, informing Liara that she needn't pay for their meals. She held the bag in her hands as the hostess left them alone. That tremble to Shepard's body returned, and it continued all the more she tried to hold it back. This one was not of sickness, of nausea.


End file.
